After arrival at the airport, everything proceeded more or less according to plan. Being a Friday evening (d’oh! forgot about that when I agreed to be bumped when Delta called me the day before) security lines were insane: packed and moving almost imperceptibly, and the chubby mouse-ear wearing British kid directly in front of me had to be hustled to a hurried exit when he started puking purple sludge into a ziplock bag (note to ziplock bag: Thank you for your fortuitous placement, O Ziplock Bag, or the pudgelet’s purgings would have landed on my bare, wedge-sandaled feet – ewwwww).
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